


The Trinity of Shadows

by lunaluvr17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Dysfunctional Family, Friendship, Multi, The Golden Trio, The Golden Trio Era, They Warped but Still Children...for now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 05:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2217870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaluvr17/pseuds/lunaluvr17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the age old question...What if the golden trio weren't quite so golden? What if they were something darker? Follow Harry as he grows to defeat Voldemort and then become something far worse. How will teachers react to the sullen, cold, little saviour? Will the Weasley's accept Ron's Slytherin nature? And what does Hermione have up her sleeve for their future? All this and more will be explored in the trinity's first year at Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> A/N- This is hopefully going to be a multi chaptered fic. But I’ve thought that before. Truth is I have lots of ideas but I’m terrible at follow through when it comes to stories so if you like it and want to read more….REVIEW!

In the latter half of his life Harry Potter began to wonder when exactly it was that he lost all semblance of a childhood. What specific event broke him so completely as a child, it turned him into the man he would become? It was only in the last couple days of his life that he finally decided what it was.

His seventh birthday was a normal enough day. Aunt screams him awake, tortured at school by cousin and gang, then come home for another rousing episode of ignore the slave until you get upset and hit him. That’s how it was. Every day, all day, for as long as he could remember. Except that day.

Harry entered the pristine number 4 behind Dudley as usual that day. Walking straight to his cupboard to do his homework and trying not to make a sound as the bruises from that day’s beating (both the one at breakfast and school) when he saw his uncle standing in front of the door. He looked up but only to neck level, Uncle Vernon had a habit of going crazy if Harry ever dared to look him in the eye.

“Just where do you think you’re going!” Uncle Vernon said, spittle flying from his mouth in fury.  
“T-to my cupboard, sir”  
“Not Today!” Grabbing Harry by the arm he drags him into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia is standing by the bread drawer and Harry’s heart sank, knowing this could only end in tears.

“Do you know why we are here?” Uncle Vernon’s looking at him now, a strange mix of fury and expectation.

“No, sir”, but he did. It was an often occurrence in number four privet drive for Harry to be denied food. Last night he was sent to his cupboard with no food in his belly, for the third night in a row. So he snuck out around midnight and stole some bread from the kitchen. He had to, if he didn’t he would DIE! But standing here now he feels, maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision.

“Well, now we know what a despicable, lying little shit you are don’t we?” Uncle Vernon gives a nasty laugh and looks at Petunia. Then turns back, grabbing Harry’s little arms in a vice grip and screaming directly in his face.

“You STOLE FROM US!!! After all we’ve done for you, you ungrateful-“ This is when the hitting starts. He always knew it was going to but for some reason, in his little 7 year old mind, he thought this couldn’t happen today. It was his birthday. He started crying as he was knocked to the floor and tried to crawl away.

“Please st-stop, it’s my birthday” he sobbed. And they did stop but only to laugh. When Uncle Vernon turned back to look at him on the floor, pathetic and sniveling, he had the most evil smile Harry had ever seen. And he just knew, there was no way he was going to get out of this. And it was going to be terrible.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

It happened a little earlier for Hermione. Of course it did, she was always more mature than ‘her boys’, and things had always affected her differently because she was, in all modesty a genius. She was, the school had her tested. 

She always had been, ever since she was a little girl teachers had tried bumping her up a level in school and she would run home excitedly to tell her parents how well she did. But they were important dentists and couldn’t be bothered with caring about or for their little lonely daughter.

The teachers almost made up for the neglect of her parents. Almost. Whenever she got bumped up to a more advanced class the teachers always gushed over her, all anxious to leave their mark on the little genius before she grew up to “be something… something great”. Because she was smart that was what was expected of her and since she had never received any sort of affection for anything else in her life she had always felt obligated to do just that.

Maybe that’s why she became what she did. Well, that and what happened one summer day when she was five. Because all that neglect and pseudo-love from artificial sources due to her genius is enough to severely mess anyone up but not to break them. Not turn them into one third of the most ruthless and power hungry trio of killers ever to set foot in the Wizarding World.  
It was the end of another school year. Something that always upset Hermione Granger. She was five years old but she knew far more than most people her age, far more than most adults. And she knew what the end of school brought. Loneliness and neglect. She doesn’t know why her parents don’t love her, she tries so hard to prove she’s worthy of it. 

Hell, she five years old and in the ninth grade at school, going to advanced classes with people almost three times her age. You’d think that would be enough to make them proud. Yet every day she comes home from school, her dad is in his favorite chair reading the paper and only says ‘that’s nice’, her mother is at the table doing a crossword saying ‘good job sweetie’. 

Neither of them looks up, in fact she can’t remember the last time they looked at her. Sometimes she thinks that if they were in a mall together, her parents wouldn’t be able to pick her out of the crowd. But genius is nothing without persistence and so she keeps trying. That’s why she was sitting here in the principal’s office on the last day of school, trying to get the schedule for university classes she was going to take over the summer.

“Well here you go Miss Granger, sorry for the wait.” He passed her the schedule with a genial smile. Scrambling away from her thoughts she replied with a small thank you. As she got up to go he said,  
“Your parents must be so proud of you” They always said that and it always hurt. She waited a beat too long before saying,

“Of course they are, why wouldn’t they be?” She left quickly after, hoping he didn’t see the scared look on her face. She left through the back of the school when they caught up to her. It was Tommy and his gang, her main tormentors. They were so jealous of her intellect and too stupid to know that’s why they hated her. She sped up hoping they wouldn’t keep following her, as usual hope was futile.

“Well, well boys what do we have here?” Cue stupid, ugly, laughter. They had stopped right in front of her and quickly surrounded.

“What do you want Tommy? I’ve got to go home.” She made herself sound bored to keep the fear at bay. Last time they did this after school they left her hanging upside down in a tree. It took forever to get down and it was almost 10pm by the time she got home.

“We couldn’t help but hear about your little brown nosing ass in the principal’s office today. Seems you’re going to college, huh. You sure are full of yourself, thinking you’re so smart, you come up in here and make the rest of us look like fools. I DON’T THINK SO!” With every word he got angrier and louder. Stepping closer and closer to her until she had backed into one of his goons. That’s when the real trouble started.

They descended on her with mean smiles and grabby hands, talking so loud and fast she couldn’t distinguish their words. They took her backpack and threw it to the side before ripping her clothes off. She started crying and they slapped her. Tommy took out a knife and started cutting off her long curly hair. 

They pushed her around a bit until she was on the ground, sniveling and whimpering pathetically, staring up at them as they called her names and laughed while she tried to cover herself and hide her face in shame. She was practically bald now and couldn’t hide behind her hair so she just stared at the ground as her eyes got darker. She looked up coldly at the boys retreating backs. Tears dried on her face as she got up and walked home.

She walked through the door and there was father reading the paper. He didn’t look up but said,  
“Welcome home sweetie, how was school?” She didn’t answer but went into the kitchen. He kept reading, unconcerned. Her mother was at the table doing a crossword.  
“Are you hungry? What do you want for dinner?” She asked. When Hermione didn’t respond Mrs. Granger glanced up then back to her crossword before she remarked,  
“Did you do something to your hair? I like it.” With that, the last bit of hope Hermione had was broken. There was no fairness or justice in a world that belittled and tortured her for her gifts. No love or compassion is possible if the only people in the world that are genetically obligated to feel that for you can’t be bothered. 

She wanted to scream but instead she went to her room and got dressed. Knowing someday she would have revenge and after that, she’d make sure no one ever made her feel that small and powerless again.

 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Growing up Ron was probably the last person you’d ever suspect of becoming what he did. He was a happy-go-lucky kid with an eye for adventure, though few noticed that about him. He came from a big and loving family and despite not having very much money, no one could really say they were poor in the ways that mattered.

Although all of that was true, no family is perfect. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had seven kids and each one was known for something, they had a place. Bill was the oldest, a natural protector, he created cool; he just oozed it. Charlie was the athlete, strong and confident even as a child he was known for his passion for adventure and testing his limits. Percy was the good one, always did his chores without complaint always tattled because of his unshakable belief in a black and white version of right and wrong and the consequences for both.

Then there were the twins. Fred and George were so close in personality and friendship everyone pretty much counted them as on person, even they did. They were the troublemakers, the pranksters that always brought a smile to everyone’s faces even in the tensest of situations. Last but not least was Ginny.

The only girl in a house of boys she never had trouble standing out. She was known for being sweet yet spunky, she could hold her own in a fight with any of her brothers but she had the advantage of being the baby and therefore, never getting into trouble for anything she did. At least not like anyone else would get into.

That was it, everyone in the family. Well, except for Ron. 

Ronald Weasley, nobody ever really thought of him when they thought of the Weasley family. For some reason he was just… forgettable. Being the youngest boy with five older brothers to compete with is no laughing matter. It seemed, to him at least, by the tender age of seven that no matter how hard he tried nobody in his family even knew who he was and they couldn’t even find the time to get to know him.

Too little to play with his brothers, he couldn’t play with Ginny unless he wanted to be ridiculed, and his parents were practically oblivious to him. He wasn’t polite and helpful like Percy or funny and outgoing like the twins. He was just average. And in a loud and boisterous family like his, average was synonymous with invisible.

In later years Ron would reflect on all of this and wonder how different his life would have been if just that one thing was different. If his parents and brothers just noticed him. Maybe if he was a different person it wouldn’t have turned out like it did. See unlike Harry, Ron always knew what it was that broke him and it wasn’t all his family’s fault. In fact, for most of his life, he blamed himself.

He was seven when it happened. He was practically invisible to his family and none of his siblings wanted to play with him, so he spent most of his time wandering Ottery St. Catchpole exploring. The muggle village had many interesting things that he was more than happy to investigate. Maybe he could even nick something and bring it home for dad.

It was fall, school had just started and Ron’s teacher was so nice to him. He always put a smiley face on anything he gave back to Ron, even Ron’s math homework which was never very good. But it was the most anyone had paid attention to him in his short life and he always beamed whenever he saw his cool teacher Mr. Addison.

He beamed at him that day, the one burned in his memory. Over the years he forgot that he used to do that. But he remembers every aspect of that day. He was bored, it was Saturday and the twins were playing Quidditch. Bill, Charlie, and Percy were at Hogwarts since school had started, and Ginny was making cookies with Mum. They loved having their special girl time and he knew he couldn’t interrupt.

So he went exploring. Walking up the north walk toward the outskirts of Ottery he was kicking a rock around when he bumped into Mr. Addison. Looking up he beamed hello and Mr. Addison smiled.  
“What’cha doing ‘round here Ronnie?” Ron always thought it was weird Mr. Addison called him that. Only his mother ever had and that was when he was sick. It felt too intimate for his teacher to throw around so casually but…… whatever.  
“I’m just walking.” Ron replied.  
“Well, that’s very healthy” He chuckled. Then turned serious and looked around.  
“I live not far from here. You must be hungry, would you like to come over and eat?”  
“Well…”  
“I’ve got cake” He wheedled. Ron was excited instantly; they almost never got such sweet deserts like cake at home, now he could have some all for himself.  
“OK!” They walked a little ways to Mr. Addison’s cottage, a small one room thing where the door opened into the kitchen which led to the bedroom. Ron noticed the messy bed right away and giggled. Teachers really were human.  
Ron went right for the table as Mr. Addison got a slice of cake out for him. As Ron ate he began to feel uncomfortable. Mr. Addison hadn’t given him a fork so he just dove right in with his hands and now Mr. Addison was staring at him. It was a strange stare too, not like his mother’s mad one if any of them forgot their manners for even a second. When he finished he looked up at Mr. Addison and asked what was wrong. He scooted over to Ron and enveloped his tiny hand within his huge one.

“You’re very special Ron, you know that right?” No one had ever told him that before and it made him blush. The way Mr. Addison was looking at him, and stroking his hand, it all felt like too much and he wanted to go home. He told Mr. Addison as much, and that’s when things changed.  
“Not just yet, I have a game to play first. Weren’t you complaining just the other day about how your brothers never let you play with them? Well now you can play with me.” And he smiled but it was meaner now and his grip on Ron’s hand was tighter as he dragged Ron into the bedroom.

“Well, look at that face. How messy! Let’s get that cleaned up shall we?” He was smirking as he leaned down. Ron remembered that very well, the smirk… and his eyes. That first time, the image never left him. 

It was rough and Ron cried and screamed and bled through parts of it and in the end all he was left with was a sore bottom and the memory of those eyes.

It was 9:30 by the time he made it home that night. The dishes were cleaning themselves in the sink, so they’d already had dinner. He wondered for a moment why no one had come looking for him when he didn’t come to dinner but dismissed it. Why would they? He was nothing to bother with, he had always known that deep down but never had it sunk in so deeply, or stung as sharply as when he walked by the den to get to the staircase.

Here was his family, reading a letter from Charlie by the sounds of it. Mum was hold Ginny on the couch as they listened and the twins were comparing chocolate frog cards by the fire as Dad read the letter aloud, amusement in his voice. None of them asked what was wrong, or where he was, they didn’t even notice him standing there.

He had never felt so small and insignificant in his life. It always hurt when he was ignored but what just happened….he couldn’t even form an opinion on what had just happened to him but he knew he hated it. Standing there, he felt powerless and weak. Pathetic. And if it was the last thing he did, he would make sure he never felt that way again.


	2. Letters and Trains

His Hogwarts letter came on a Wednesday. Ron was just sitting down to breakfast when Errol flew through the open window, doing an impressive kamikaze into the butter. Laughter rose up as it always did at the old owl’s antics. Mrs. Weasley bustled over with an amused smirk, which quickly morphed into shock as she read the letter addressed to Ron.

“What is it Mom?” Ginny asked, bewildered by the strange expression on her mother’s face. Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat and after a moment she looked up and directly at Ron.

“It’s for you honey, it’s your Hogwarts letter, isn’t that great!” Smiling warmly she handed Ron the letter and sat next to her husband. They were all looking at him, surprise and relief clear on their faces. They were expecting something from him, maybe excitement or surprise.

He wasn’t surprised. He knew he had magic, just last week he had an accidental burst of magic that exploded an old stuffed animal in his closet. But for some reason things like that had never happened around his family and he certainly wasn’t going to tell them about it when it happened while he was a lone. Like he’d even get the chance to speak out… about anything without being ignored or spoken over.

His family had been living under the impression for years that Ron was most likely a Squib and Ron didn’t have the energy to correct them. Now here he was, eleven years old, a few months away from going to Hogwarts and his siblings finally had something in common with him. Fred and George were particularly excited to see how Ron reacted to the letter. Leaning forward in their seats to catch a glimpse of his face at the other end of the table.

A few weeks ago they had caught their little brother in the kitchen with a knife, twirling it between his fingers with a most peculiar expression on his face. Ever since they had been curious about what went on in Ron’s head. He was so unlike the rest of the family. Quiet and cautious, he had many strange habits which Fred and George hadn’t even realized until that moment in the kitchen that they had overlooked all their lives.

Like the way he always sat with his back against the wall. In fact he never turned his back on anyone, always making sure he was the last to enter a room. He loved chess, one of the few things the whole family knew about him, and three days ago they challenged him to a game. Only they were watching Ron instead of the game and they were disturbed by the level of concentration and intensity to which he annihilated them. 

What disturbed them even more was that no one else in the family seemed to notice this strange behavior. Granted they hadn’t noticed it either until the incident in the kitchen, but they had short attention spans, what was everyone else’s excuse? Point is, Ron was a mystery and Fred & George were too curious for their own good.

Ron simply shrugged in response and said “Cool” before continuing to eat his oatmeal. This threw everyone for a loop, what kid was excited to go to Hogwarts but shrugged it off.

“What house do you think you’ll be in Ron?” Ginny asked excitedly bouncing in her seat. She looked up to all her brothers and Ron was no different, though he made it much harder than the rest of them ever did. Again he shrugged, and she sat back disappointed.

“What are you on about Ginny, he’ll be in Gryffindor! All Weasleys go to Gryffindor.” Charlie exclaimed. He and Bill were spending the summer with their family for the first time since leaving Hogwarts and were anxious to catch up with their siblings who felt like strangers after such a long absence.

“C’mon Bill, it’s not like it’s a requirement!” Bill interjected. “I bet he’s in Ravenclaw, he’s great at chess and…. well… you like to read don’t you Ron, I think I’ve seen you with a book”

“Merlin knows where he got that from!” Mr. Weasley remarked and everyone laughed and that was how it was settled. Ron was going to Hogwarts that fall, and he’d be in either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw and that was that. Nobody asked him anything more about it, not that he would have told them the truth. 

The truth was that at eleven years old he already knew what he wanted from his future, and while Ravenclaw was good he didn’t feel much attached to the house or its reputation and Gryffindor definitely wasn’t going to help him get what he wanted. 

No, he knew what house he wanted but no way was he about to tell his family of lions about it. He had appearances to keep up, a game he played with himself that allowed him to mature his ideas without interference. Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent underneath. Ron smirked into his oatmeal through the rest of the meal. No one noticed, except the twins.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

It wasn’t unusual for representatives from any number of schools to show up at the Granger household, but never had one looked so strange. A little man that only came up to Hermione’s chest, with crazy white hair sticking up all over the place, and a high pitched voice that made him sound like a giggling school girl. 

This man was Filius Flitwick, a professor at a very prestigious boarding school in Scotland that the Granger family, apparently, just had to send their daughter to. They invited the man in for tea and to discuss this ‘amazing’ school and it’s opportunities for their daughter. 

Mr. and Mrs. Granger weren’t very affectionate parents. They had never wanted children but when Hermione came along they decided that they weren’t the type of people to shirk their responsibilities. In the last eleven years as her parents they fulfilled every legal obligation to her that was required of them and in a way they were proud of her accomplishments in school and her incredible intellect.  
It meant she could leave the nest faster than average kids and they could get back to their quiet life with no interruptions. Plus whatever extraordinary things she accomplished in her life would reflect wonderfully on them as her parents. It’s the best of both worlds.

They sat down in the den, Filius on one side of the coffee table with Hermione and her parents on the couch opposite him. He was different than the other representatives, Hermione noticed right away. It wasn’t just his odd appearance (who wears robes out of the house?) or strangely excited confusion at ordinary items like the TV, it was how from the moment he knocked on the door he seemed to know something about her that she didn’t.

It felt like he knew the outcome of this meeting and she didn’t like how he just assumed he was going to get his way with….whatever it is he seems so eager to talk about. Practically bouncing in his seat over there, Hermione couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes and before he could even say a word she leaned forward in her seat and said,

“Well, what do you want Mr. Flitwick. And before you start spouting off the company line about how great your school is, you should know that after graduating secondary school two years ago I have been working on personal projects in some very sensitive areas of science. If I were to go to University, which I’m not planning on right now, you would need to offer me something pretty spectacular.” With that she leaned back on the couch and crossed her arms, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

Filius stared at her in awe for a moment. Truthfully he was amazed at her rapid fire speech with barely a breath between words. Dumbledore told the staff she was smart, genius level he said. Everyone laughed and Pomona made a comment about me getting another raven for my collection. So Filius took the task of telling this new muggleborn student about the Wizarding world; he wanted to see just how smart she really was. Turns out, Dumbledore was right but he hadn’t counted on the attitude.

She was direct too, no nonsense for this girl. Well, he thought, let’s not beat around the bush. He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and said,

“Hermione Granger, you are a witch” there was a pause and then

“Excuse me”, “I beg your pardon”, “What?” The standard questions all came from Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger and Hermione respectively. They were astounded and a little insulted. Filius, used to this, continued with the explanation.

“I mean that literally. You have magic. My school is called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It’s not specialized I’m afraid, not a school of higher education, but it is the only school in the country that teaches young witches and wizards how to harness the gifts they are born with.”

“This can’t be true, you’re trying to pull a fast one on us aren’t you. Well, ha ha. Now get out.” Mr. Granger stood up at accentuate his point.

“Hermione can’t have magic she’s a normal little girl, you’re mistaken!” Mrs. Granger said and that stung a little. Hermione hadn’t been normal since that first IQ test came back but for once, Hermione bit her tongue. She didn’t speak out, because she had a scary feeling that Mr. Flitwick wasn’t making this up and even worse, she didn’t want him to be. If this was true then it all made sense.

For the last year and a half she had been experiencing some pretty strange things she couldn’t account for, which was a first for her. She first noticed it when she got off the bus to the library. She saw him across the street, Tommy. She never had gotten back at him. Not really, a few death threats hidden in his locker and planting evidence of various crimes on his person or in his room that eventually landed him in juvie for a while. 

But it wasn’t what she really wanted to do to him. She wanted to get up close and personal as she sliced away his dignity and his will to live until he was nothing more than a hollowed out husk of a man. Then she would kill him, nice and slow. 

But she was still too small, and for all her brains and cruel imagination there was only so much she could physically do. Unless someone helped her she would never get the revenge against Tommy that she so desperately desired. But that wasn’t possible, she didn’t have any friends. Let alone have close enough friends that she could commit murder around without them ratting her out.

 

As she stared at Tommy she could almost feel the hate she had for his mere existence rise within her and lash out. Next thing she knew his coat was on fire and he was screaming as it spread. She started walking away very quickly as if she had done it, but she was across the street. That definitely wasn’t possible, was it? The anomaly started happening more and more, like a floodgate had been opened and she wasn’t exactly trying to close it. 

She began to do experiments on herself, tried to figure out where it came from and how it worked. But she was stonewalled at every turn. The most she could figure was that it was tied to the electrical impulses in her brain which is why it fluctuated with her emotions. Now here was her answer, magic. A part of her wanted to refute such ancient terminology but what else could you call it. Certainly nothing in her sciences could explain it very well. 

Perhaps if she went to this school she could study the phenomenon more closely, and once she had control over it…. Oh the things she could do. Punishing Tommy would only be first on a long list of things she could finally accomplish with such power. 

While she had been considering this Filius was calming down the parents and proving the validity of his claim. Interestingly enough, despite levitating the coffee table right in front of her Ms. Granger didn’t appear to be paying attention.

Once the parents were settled, shocked into silence, Filius turned to Hermione and said,

“Well, what’ll it be Ms. Granger? Do remember that without proper training your power will only become more and more uncontrollable as you age, you could hurt someone.”

Hermione just smirked, “When do I leave?”

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Kings Cross Station was crowded and Harry Potter did not like it one bit. It was 10:40 am and his uncle had just dropped him off. Now, he had to navigate the busy train station, to find a platform that couldn’t exist, all while trying not to draw attention to himself. 

Right, and then maybe he’ll make a balloon out of farts and fly it to the moon. That seemed as likely considering the number of people already looking at him. Plus the fact that every time he moved, his chest burned. Hedwig hooted indignantly as man elbowed past them. Heaving a sigh, Harry walked until he found platform nine. Then ten. Nothing in between. Well that figures, he thought.

This was all wrong, what was he even doing here? A huge guy in animal skins knocks on your door in the middle of the night and you just go along with everything he tells you, Insane! But still, Harry couldn’t deny how much sense it made. Magic. 

As ridiculous as it sounded, such an explanation accounted for so many things that he always wanted to know. Why the Dursley’s always hated him and cursed his parents. They were scared. Why he could try and be good with every ounce of his being and still do something wrong, out of the ordinary, strange. Because he couldn’t help it. He was born this way, and it was everyone else’s fault for ever making him feel that it was his fault.

That kind of clarity came with a price though. His past had always been a mystery to him, but even with this fundamental piece of information, it only brought up more mysteries that he needed more information to solve. 

That’s why he went along with the beast and his confounding lack of answers to even basic questions like, oh I don’t know, how to find this platform 9 and ¾. He needed to get to Hogwarts so he could finally take his life into his own hands. But that required getting on the right platform.

Harry let out a frustrated noise, somewhere between a sigh and a whine, before bonking his head down on the trolley handle bar annoyed. His thoughts were running in circles and he only had ten minutes left to get on the platform. That’s when he heard it.

“Packed with muggles of course, come on you lot this way” Harry whipped his head around to see a plump woman with fiery red hair walking his way with several children following her, all with the same red hair. He backed his trolley up to give them some room. When she got there she looked him over rather tactlessly but with a warm smile and said,

“Well, hello! First time at Hogwarts?” He nodded unsure of the protocol here. Should he look her in the eye, or would she think that disrespectful? Speak up or stay quiet and wait for her to give him some inkling of what she wanted out of this interaction.

Mrs. Weasley looked on this little boy with the downcast eyes and messy raven colored hair. Clothes too big for him and glasses all taped up. She felt pity rise to dangerous proportions within her heart as she asked with her kindest smile,

“Do you know how to get onto the platform?” again he shook his head but he looked her the eye this time and she saw something she hadn’t expected. They weren’t scared or sad, his eyes were harsh, angry. She flinched back, startled, but it would take more than that to stop her from inflicting kindness on everyone she met.

She quickly explained how the platform worked and sent her oldest and the twins through to show him. She asked if he understood and he nodded quickly. Without so much as a goodbye or a thank you he was through the barrier. Huffing, she turned to look at Ron who was staring curiously after the mystery boy before remarking,

“Well he was a quiet one. Much like you Ron.” He turned to peer at her, as though he had no idea where that observation came from, but said nothing. Huffing again, even more annoyed now, she said,

“You might want to look into that, you seem like two pees in a pod.” And she was off through the barrier, Ginny in tow.

Meanwhile, on the platform Harry had paused. He took a moment to just revel in the majesty of the train and what it symbolized for this next chapter of his life. He did something he hadn’t done in a very long time. He smiled. Then the train whistle blew and he hurried to get on the train.

After he was settled in a compartment he relaxed a little and began to stare out into the see of parents coming to see their kids off. It made his heart twinge a little so he ignored them and focused on the family who helped him get on the platform. The twins were making fun of the older one who obviously couldn’t take a joke and everyone else was laughing. Wait not everyone else, someone was missing.

The boy, about his age but much taller, he wasn’t with them. Harry had hardly noticed the other boy until all his brothers had disappeared through the barrier. He was quiet, much like Harry, and kept looking over his shoulder at the other commuters suspiciously. 

Harry didn’t have time to wonder where he had gone when a knock sounded on his compartment door. He looked over at who had to be the missing boy from what he could see through the opaque glass. Hair like that could probably be used as a torch.

He got up and opened the door, watching as Ron came in and put an old beat up trunk in the overhead then sat down in the corner opposite Harry, staring at him. He only stared for a moment before leaning forward with a huge, bright smile on his face and saying,

“Hi, I’m Ron Weasley. What’s your name?” He extends his hand and his face is showing nothing but friendliness. Yet Harry knows something is off with him. The smile looks convincing but his eyes are expectant and harsh, Harry’s seen it enough times in the mirror to know the difference between normal and…. broken. He smirks, leaning forward to shake and says,

“I’m Harry Potter. A pleasure I’m sure” He sat back to see what he would do, but Ron kept surprising him. He just sat back with a thoughtful expression and said,

“Huh, interesting.” 

They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes as the train pulled away from the station. It had been a long time since Harry had interacted with anyone outside his family and Ron was just confused about what he should say or do to keep his cover with a kid his own age. Before either of them could think of something to say, they heard a commotion in the hall. They looked at each other before rushing to the door to see what was wrong.

In the hall, Hermione was having a bit of a rough time. She had just been patrolling the halls after changing into her uniform, trying to get a feel for the student body she would be a part of. So far she had not been impressed by what she’s seen. 

Boys and girls, her age and above, acting like fools. Playing games, gossiping, and this. Two ape-ish looking boys picking on a big eared boy her age that looked close to tears. Hermione can deal with a lot of things from the Neanderthals that surround her on a daily basis, but if there is one thing Hermione is intolerant of, it’s bullies of any kind.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She asks them with all the contempt she has, which is a surprising amount actually.

“Uuuhh, fun?” The huge guy to the left said stupidly. He had the boy by his ankles and was still shaking his money out. A frog fell out of his hand and started hopping away.

“Trevor!” He yelled and started crying. Hermione felt her fury rising within her, memories of her childhood coming back to her with startling clarity, and she couldn’t contain it anymore. She screamed and ran at the two laughing boys and started hitting, kicking, and biting at whatever she could get her hands on. 

This startled them and they let the boy go. He scrambled up, face blotchy from tears, yelled a quick thanks over the sounds of fighting and ran after his frog. Not before nearly bumping into two boys hanging out of their compartment watching the scene.

Harry and Ron were astounded by what they were seeing. They looked at each other with an amused smirk and a foreign feeling passed between them that they had never felt before. A feeling like…comradery. They turned back to the scene as the fatter one punched the little bushy haired kamikaze in the face. She fell on her back, blood running from her nose but all she did was snarl and get right back up to go at it again.

Without thinking Harry ran out and took hold of her arms to stop her from, probably, killing herself and he yelled back at Ron to help him. Ron was hesitant but he admired Harry’s nerve, plus the girl was crazy which made him want to see more of what she would do at Hogwarts. He couldn’t let her die here. 

He rushed forward to help subdue her because she was already fighting off Harry. Screaming obscenities and snarling at the two bullies who were just amazed and confused at what had happened, too stupid to even laugh. The prefects were coming so Ron motioned with his head that they should bring her into their compartment. Harry nodded and they started dragging her into the compartment while trying to quiet her. 

They got her into a seat when she popped up, all righteous anger, and started at them. Harry was in a lot of pain from the struggle to get her in here. The fact that she was going for them after they had just saved her ass, angered him beyond measure. Before she could land anything Harry reared back his arm and punched her square in the face.

There was a cracking noise and her head hit the wall so hard the two boys felt it and flinched. The crazy girl slumped over on her side in the seat, passed out. Then there was silence. After a few minutes the shock wore off and Ron could hear his brother, Percy, asking their neighbors what all the commotion was. Harry had a surprised expression as he looked at his hand and the girl. 

Ron looked at his watch. Fifteen minutes into their journey and Hogwarts was already shaping up to be more fun than the first eleven years of his life. He turned to Harry with a smirk and said wryly,

“This should be exciting.” Harry turned to him looking so incredulously exasperated that Ron did something he hadn’t done in years. He laughed. The most cathartic laughter he had ever experienced and Harry joined in. 

Two broken boys, laughing together on a train ride to the rest of their lives. What could be sweeter?


	3. A Train Ride to Destiny

With a start, Hermione came back to consciousness. She sat up, rubbing at the goose egg on the back of her head. She looked on impetuously as the two boys across from her lounged casually in the seat.

The taller red-head was smiling broadly at her while unwrapping a disgusting looking sandwich. He sat with his back to the corner and occasionally glanced at the other boy and raise his eyebrows like, can you believe this chick. He seemed a bit….creepy, like he was trying too hard to appear relaxed, his smile too tight. He was pretty good though, most people wouldn’t notice, but she wasn’t most people. She turned towards the boy he looked to.

This one was harder to read. He was leaning forward in his seat, as if eager to talk, but his face was closed off and calculating. Except when the redhead would look at him and do that face thing. Then his lips would twitch and he’d take off his round broken glasses and clean them nervously, probably to hide his lip twitch, before perching them precariously on his nose again and continuing to stare at her. 

In the few minutes she had been observing them since waking up this cycle of behavior happened three times. And it was really starting to annoy. They confused her, these two boys. Studying them she had no idea what they wanted from her or their motive for dragging her away from the troubling episode with the bully.

She sat up straight, ‘because perfect posture is important’, she thought sternly. She smoothed out her hair and robes and said, with as much condescension as she could muster,

“And who might you be, charming captors?”

She smiled dangerously at them. Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry before remarking

“Well, looky-there. She can talk.” He turned back to her and jokingly added,

“We thought for a moment that a rabid animal got onboard and some prankster transfigured it to look like a girl.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes in contempt and said, “Yes, well, we are all animals technically. Though some of us are more evolved than others.” 

“Evolved, huh?” Ron clicked his tongue in challenge, looking her up and down.

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty ape-like to me, what with the hair. But now that I can get a good look, I’d have to say you’re more of a chipmunk.” Ron the proceeded to mime a chipmunk biting, his lower lip sucked in with his two front teeth still out making them look abnormally larger.

Harry, meanwhile, was smirking at this sudden battle of wits but he had had enough and said,

“Alright children, let’s settle down now.” His voice was a bit hoarse from disuse. He coughed to clear it as he sat back, trying to look relaxed. It did not work very well.

“As for why you’re here, this is our compartment. I’m Harry, this is Ron. Say ‘hi’ Ron.”

“Hi, Ron.” Harry snorted when Ron said it slowly and waggled his eyebrows seductively. The corner of his mouth lifting, Harry continued.

“We brought you in here because you decided to go ape-shit crazy on some tree right outside our door. It was loud and, frankly, funny you know. If not for the fact that he was about to kill you. That would have kind of put a damper on the first day, don’t you think? So, we saved you……your welcome.”

He paused then, looking her over. Harry wasn’t great at reading people, he didn’t even know where to start. But she seemed upset despite the fact that she was sitting still and being really quiet. Or was that a clue that she was upset. Yes, no, Harry couldn’t be sure and he definitely did not trust his instincts when it came to human interaction. So instead he asked the most prevalent question on his mind. The exact wrong question.

“Why exactly did you do that? You just snapped, over nothing…why?”

Hermione had tensed up when he described the situation, staring right through him, but when Harry asked that her attention snapped back to him. She stood in anger, fury welling within her at his audacity to ask such a personal question. One she was still trying to figure out herself.

She barely heard Ron say “Uh oh, duck and cover.” Before she looked Harry right in the eye, glaring coldly, and said,

“That is none of your business, you! I should, however, thank you for getting me in here before the prefects showed up but as the coast seems to be clear I think it’s high time I be on my way. Harry, Ron.” She nodded cordially to each in turn and marched to the door. But when she got there she couldn’t resist getting one last jab in. She looked back and smirked condescendingly,

“What kind of name is Harry anyway? It’s dreadfully boring and …. Common. Especially for one so famous. You might want to consider changing it.” With that she flew out of the room. Harry, meanwhile sat there stunned.

He was stunned partly because she mentioned his fame and wasn’t yet used to people connecting the dots and automatically knowing his story. But mostly it was what she said about his name. It was the same thing his aunt used to say to him many times throughout his childhood, always meant as an insult towards his parents. 

He didn’t like it then from her and he didn’t like it now from a girl he had just met, and had only tried to help. He could feel Ron looking at him as his expression hardened. No doubt wondering why her words affected him so much. Well, let him wonder. Harry did not exactly feel like having a heart to heart about his crappy childhood. So he turned to Ron and asked about his family.

Ron let it go, wasn’t his place to pry after all, and started filling Harry in on the dynamics of the Wizarding World that he got to experience his whole life as a pureblood. Harry responded in kind, marking the differences between them and the muggle world. Always avoiding his family. Ron could understand that, after giving a vague outline of his immediate family he hadn’t mentioned them either.

It was a wonderful feeling to finally be out from under the thumb of his parents and terrible shadow that the rest of his family cast on him. When Harry talked to him, he knew that for the first time someone was talking to and seeing only him and no one else. He reveled in it so much that he started relaxing, loosening up, and even cracking jokes.

Harry too was feeling the effects of relaxation. The longer he talked to Ron without any kind of insulting remarks towards him the calmer he felt. He had a curious feeling that they were becoming…

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself there Harry. You’re not here for that.’ His thoughts on that particular subject were so confused and jumbled he decided he wouldn’t even think about it anymore and instead heard the sound of the lunch trolley in the hall.

“Wow, we must have been talking for hours.” He said.  
“Yeah, weird. I think this is the longest I’ve talked to anybody in my life,” Ron replied with a laugh. “At least without being told to go away.” 

Harry looked over at that. His smile was genuine but it was a sad statement. Of course Harry didn’t have anything better to say for his life but that was obvious enough to him. The question was, why was Ron’s reactions the same as his? Why was he so sad despite the levity they had been enjoying?

Harry wondered about this as they got some food. ‘Was Ron’s childhood like mine?’ 

They were settled in the seat facing each other as they began on their meal. The stupid sandwiches Ron doesn’t even like lay forgotten in the corner. A generous pile of goodies sat before them, thanks to Harry, and Ron had just been explaining chocolate frogs and wizard pictures to him using this Dumbledore card, when someone opened the door and walked right in.

Harry looked up at a pale blonde boy with a pointed face, flanked by the two goons from earlier. It was amazing, Harry reflected, how he managed to scan the whole compartment while looking down his nose at it.

He raised an eyebrow at Ron like, ‘what’s his problem’, only to see Ron pale and try to sink further into the seat as if trying to match the upholstery. He turned to look back at the intruder with distaste. Because he was certain whoever could make Ron so wary and withdrawn was not someone to align himself with.

“Well, Hello stranger!” Harry said with false brightness. “Whatcha, doing?” He continued, falling back on a sneer. Harry, of course, remembered him from Madame Malkin’s in Diagon Alley. He hadn’t liked the boy’s attitude, he still doesn’t.

Crinkling his nose at Harry, the boy regarded him closely for the first time. Recognition flashed behind his eyes as he noticed the scar. His eyes widened and he cleared his throat.

“Apologies Mr. Potter. I didn’t recognize you. How rude of me, I’m Draco Malfoy. A pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand but quickly withdrew at Harry’s stony expression and raised eyebrow.

“Yes, well.” He drew himself up with an air of importance.  
“My friends here were attacked by some crazy little bitch in the hall. They said she came in here.”

Several minutes passed uncomfortably until Malfoy grew impatient. He huffed, 

“Well.”

“Well, what?” Harry said calmly, enjoying the sight of Malfoy going pink in the cheeks. It was faint but still there, reminding him of something…

Malfoy was flustering now,  
“Well, do you know who she is? Do you know her name so I can find her?”

“Why do you want to find her? So she attacked your boys. They look like they can take care of themselves.”

Sighing, “That’s not the point. Look I know you were sent to live with muggles after…what happened. And I’m sorry.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he clenched his fists because ‘was it obvious? Could everyone see what had happened to him? Oh God.’ 

Malfoy didn’t notice Harry’s internal struggle, though Ron did. Sitting up, finally, and trying to figure out why Harry looked so panicked. Malfoy went on.

“But the Wizarding world is so much more complex. Steeped in tradition with a rich history going back millennia. One of which, is that you don’t let some upstart little mudblood get the better of you. Cuz’ that’s what she was, she was wearing their clothes and she was stupid and… *huff* It’s a matter of pride. An example must be made.”

He was getting mad now. Harry could tell because the red in his cheeks got darker and he felt a pang in his gut that was both familiar and strange when he saw it. He didn’t know why he kept staring at the redness. ‘It must just be the contrast from his normal pallor.’

Either way, he did not like the nameless feeling it inspired in him. So, Harry fell back on a more familiar feeling, loathing hatred.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, for your condolences on my upbringing. And for pointing out the finer points of the Wizarding World. But, I don’t know anything about that girl or that fight so if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my previous conversation as it was so much more enjoyable than this one.”

Malfoy jerked back his head, as if slapped, then narrowed his eyes at the two of them. Finally noticing Harry’s dislike of him he switched tactics. Going on the offensive he turned to Ron scowling.

Ron looked away instinctively, baring his neck, though no one noticed this peculiar trait as he submitted to the sucky moment that was about to happen. Harry was too busy admiring how big of a racist dick this guy was and looking at that redness, wishing there was more.

“I see you two have been chatty then. No need to ask who you are. Red hair, shabby robes, and dirt on your nose. Typical Weasley, probably been filling your head with all those muggle loving ideas.” He turned back to Harry, calmer.

“The Weasley’s are an old Wizarding family but the wrong sort to go making alliances with. They’re poor as dirt with all sorts of crooked ideas. Idiots, the lot of them, all in Gryffindor. And there are a lot of them. My father calls them pests because they breed like garden gnomes.” 

Malfoy stopped to take a breath as if he’d been waiting to get that out of his system since he’d first laid eyes on Ron.

“Someone of your stature should seriously think about trading up before we get to Hogwarts. I can help you there.”

That snapped Harry out of his reverie in a hurry. He looked at Ron, who was still staring at the floor, his neck red. For some reason this made Harry mad and offended on his behalf instead of… that other feeling.

Incensed he stood up, looked straight at Malfoy and said, “I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself. I like Ron, he’s funny and smart and nice to me without expecting anything in return. He might even be a friend. You, on the other hand, are a spoiled, obnoxious brat who doesn’t even know enough to know when he’s not welcome. So I’ll keep it simple. Get. The Hell. Out Of Our. Compartment. You Dick!”

Malfoy was practically snarling by the end of that speech. The red in his cheeks even more pronounced and it made Harry smile in victory, his eyes flashing. Not knowing what else to do he turned tail and stomped out. His goons following stupidly.

Their absence left an awkward silence filling the room. Harry and Ron went back to eating their candy until Ron looked up, his stare unreadable, and said,

“So, you think we’re friends then.” Harry, froze, nervous. ‘Have I made some social faux pas? Was it too soon for that kind of talk? Oh, no.’ He looked up only to find Ron smiling. It wasn’t like the other ones, all tight and fake, it was a shy but genuine smiles as he said,

“That’s cool. I’ve never had a friend before.”

“Me neither.” Harry said smiling just as shyly. Something clicked then, the air grew calm and happy and that was that. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were friends.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Meanwhile, Hermione Granger was confused. It was a strange feeling she wasn’t used to having. She was sitting in her compartment all alone, ‘just the way I like it’, staring at the words of a book she’d already memorized.

‘Why did I go crazy on those boys?’ She had been contemplating the question since she had left Harry and Ron’s compartment. She thought herself in, out, and around the entire event several times and she couldn’t figure it out. She’d been walking along the corridor when she saw them standing there, hold a boy upside down by his ankles. The boy was average, round face made ugly by fat tears rolling down it and snot bubbling at the corners of his nose.

Her photographic memory helped her recall the picture perfectly. What was harder to remember was what exactly she felt about it. She tried, but it was chaotic and the only discernible feelings she could find were hatred, anger, and ….disappointment. The hatred was simple enough to understand, she hated bullies. But disappointment? She sighed and set the book down, choosing to look out the window instead,

She supposed, if she really thought about it, she was disappointed because she thought this new school would be different. She thought it would have been… better than her old school. She thought maybe here people would appreciate her intelligence, she’d make friends, and be normal among witches and wizards the way she never had been in the muggle world.

But when she saw those bullies doing to that boy what had been done to her so many times, she knew it wasn’t going to be any different. That’s where the anger came in, she guessed. ‘How can I be so smart and so naïve at the same time’, she scolded herself.

Then again, this is all hypothetical, if she really thought about it. Which she wasn’t…thinking about it. Nor did she want to, it was just a fluke. So Hermione Granger did what she did best and pushed down her uncomfortable feelings in favor of something more productive.

She got up and changed into her school robes and pulled her hair into a pony tail. As she did this she noticed that her head still smarted from that knock she took earlier. She felt it and it was definitely still swelling. So she took out her wand and water bottle transfigured the water into ice. Well, partially. She still wasn’t used to the whole wand and magic words thing. She practiced the spells she memorized at home with a normal stick so as not to get in trouble and still learn as much as she could before going to school. 

She had hoped the gap between the real act of casting magic with her wand and the practicing she did over holiday wasn’t too substantial. And looking at the end product in her hand she felt proud at her forethought. She put the partially frozen water bottle up to her head and thought to herself, ‘see, I don’t need friends.’

But even as she thought it she couldn’t help remembering the two boys who saved her. Because that is what they did. Not just from getting her ass handed to her but from getting into trouble. She’d never been in trouble before and she would probably die if she ever did. Those boys. Annoying Ron with the witty retorts thrown down as fast as her own, and Harry with that amused look and calm attitude.

She wondered what they were doing right now. What house would they be in? She stared at the setting sun. Hermione Granger didn’t need friends. But maybe, she did kind of want them.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Ron was nervous. As they were finishing the sweets Harry turned pensive and started watching the sunset. The silence was comfortable enough but still, it made him nervous. ‘Is he rethinking our friendship? What did I do? Why am I freaking out so much, I only met him a few hours ago?’ He didn’t know what to do or think about Harry and him being friends. Ron had only ever really had one friend. But he didn’t count because… friendship wasn’t the only thing Mr. Addison wanted from him.

“So, how did you know that Malfoy guy?” Harry said, startling Ron.

“I don’t really. I just know of his family. The Malfoy’s and the Weasley’s are both very old Wizarding families but unlike the Malfoy’s we don’t go in for all that pureblood mania. We don’t mind muggles, my father actually loves them. To families like the Malfoy’s this makes us what they call ‘Blood-traitors’”

“Dramatic, much?”  
“Right!” And they laughed.  
“So what did he mean by that word, Gryffindor?”  
“Wow, I keep forgetting how much you don’t know. Didn’t Hagrid tell you about the houses?” Ron replied.  
“All he said about Houses was that there were four of them. Two named Hufflepuff and Slytherin and that Voldemort was in Slytherin.” Ron inhaled sharply at the sound of the name but Harry kept going.  
“Oh, and that we are all sorted into houses based on our attributes.” Ron exhaled.

“Right, well that’s all true. But you should know that one of the most famous things about Hogwarts is the house rivalries. And they stretch far beyond the walls of Hogwarts. Especially the one between Gryffindor and Slytherin.”

“But, why?” Harry asked, confused. It seemed so pointless to him. Holding old school grudges.

“Many reasons I guess. The houses are named after the four founders of Hogwarts. Legend has it that Slytherin and Gryffindor were enemies. Slytherin was this bad guy and Gryffindor was the stalwart hero who kicked him out of the school yada yada yada, something along those lines. But the grudge between the two houses has existed ever since. And because of that they say that only dark and evil wizards come out of Slytherin while Gryffindors are known for being brave and righteous. They’re the heroes.” Ron scoffed and looked down, conflicted.

“What do you think?” Ron looked up, confused. Harry sat across from him, he was looking at him respectfully, trusting his opinion. 

“Do you think Slytherin’s a bad house that only turns out dark wizards?”

Though neither boy knew it, what Ron said next would change the course of their lives. Ron’s eyes cleared and he looked at Harry, their fate decided.

“No. I’ve read all about it. The official synopsis is that it’s a house for the ambitious and sly. It’s for people with the determination and skill to become powerful and respected wizards and witches. And that’s where I’m going.” Hands clenched and eyes steely, Ron certainly looked determined enough to get in.

Harry thought about the characteristics Ron listed and he felt something stirring inside. Ambitious? Oh yeah. Harry had many goals for his life, not least of which was to become a powerful person in a position of authority. Sly? Considering all the schemes and lying he resorted to in order to avoid/get away from the Dursley’s, Harry’s pretty sure he’s sly and sneaky enough to meet that criteria. Determined? He thought of the Dursley’s and all that they had done to him. Yes, he was determined.

Harry looked at Ron and couldn’t think of a better house to spend his school years. But…

“How do you know you’ll get in? Do you get to pick? And didn’t Malfoy say you’re whole family was in Gryffindor?” Ron’s expression fell.

“Yes. Well, no. I mean, we don’t get to pick the house we want. It’s some sort of test that sorts us but nobody knows what it is. It’s the best kept secret in the Wizarding world. No book writes about it, wizarding families don’t tell their children about it, all in order to keep the mystery alive. And yes, my whole family has been in Gryffindor, thanks for reminding me.” Ron sighed, he suddenly looked very tired.

“That’s another reason why our families hate each other. All of the Malfoy’s have been in Slytherin, All the Weasley’s go to Gryffindor. Trace both of our families back hundreds of years and you’ll find that one consistent fact. The Malfoy-Weasley rivalry is probably as old as the house rivalry, and that house rivalry is probably the reason for it.”

Harry digested all of this new information couldn’t help but agree with his earlier assessment. It was ridiculous all this grudge holding rivalry. But, it could have its uses. Harry looked up at Ron and smirked.

“So what you’re saying is, that should you get into Slytherin, your dream house, it would probably be really big news. A Weasley in Slytherin. Might even cause an uproar, you changing the status quo like that.” Ron smiled in return, leaning forward. He could see the wheels turning in Harry’s head as he leaned forward excitedly.

“Probably. Might be one of the reasons I’m doing It.”, he said, smirking.

“Ok, let’s face facts, Ron. My coming to Hogwarts is huge news, everyone is going to be watching me and talking about me. I know what people do around celebrities, my aunt was obsessed with them. It’s going to suck! But if I went into Slytherin, with all that stigma about dark wizards and stuff, everyone would probably be too frightened or shocked to bother me. But, I could help to fix this ridiculous rift between the houses. Plus, I’d get to be with you.” He smiled at Ron, encouraging him to follow his line of thought. Ron did.

“And if I get into Slytherin like I planned, I’d not only have a friend. I could openly be friends with one of the most famous people in the wizarding world. Which will only continue to set me apart from my family like I wanted in the first place.

“Bingo!” Harry said, excitedly. Glad to have a less sappy reason to have Ron as a friend.  
“What?”  
“Nothing, forget it. Point is, we have to make sure we both get into Slytherin. Once there, we’ll figure out the rest. You know, choose our allies, make connections, and most of all figure what we want to do once we leave Hogwarts.” Harry said firmly.

“First we should probably learn a little magic. That might help.” Ron said, smiling. He was amused by Harry’s eagerness and vision, but couldn’t deny its appeal. Harry laughed at that. Still excited, but more subdued he said,

“So many paths are open to us now. You and me, magic and fame and who knows what else that may come in our future, you watch. We’re going to be amazing. Everyone will know the names of Potter and Weasley, when they hear those names they’ll think of us. You wait and see. Everyone will love us.”

Eyes shining bright they looked at each other, the promise of a future they’d only dreamed of flashing before them. A future filled with love and adoration they had been denied their entire lives. They ignored the pain and issues that lurked beneath the surface. Not knowing it was too late for that. Not knowing that someday, they would decide that everyone fearing them was a much better alternative to love.


	4. An Unusual Sorting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N Sorry for the long wait and long chapter. I honestly could not find a good place to stop. By the way, you can tell towards the end how frustrated I am at how long it’s taking me to lay out everything I need to. Look at the dialogue, you can tell :)

 As the train pulled to a stop on the outskirts of the Hogwarts grounds, Ron and Harry were among the first to get out. They had agreed 30 minutes ago that they were sick of the train and had taken to standing in front of the train doors, cracking jokes with each other about the passing kids and theorizing about Hogwarts.

 

They wondered what it would be like. Both hoping that it would be better than what they were leaving behind. Neither knew, really, just what the other meant when they both voiced the same ominous sounding wish.

 

Well, they knew a little. Harry had explained that he was raised by muggles who hated magic and thus had raised him ignorant of it, to the point of lying to him. In truth Harry wasn’t the least bit shocked or betrayed when he discovered this lie, considering everything else they had done to him. But he figured it was a safe enough reason to give Ron that wouldn’t scare him off like the whole truth would.

 

Ron figured the same thing. He told Harry that his large family often took him for granted and ignored him. Not consciously, he was quick to defend, but more like he was just unnoticeable. Ron told Harry about his old childhood fears of waking up one morning and coming downstairs completely invisible. His family unable to see or hear him and worse, nobody realizing something was even wrong. For that’s what it felt like, he told Harry, like he was a two-dimensional character living on the sidelines of his family’s story.

 

These feelings were a safe sadness that they were able to tell each other and bond over on that train ride. Neither willing to tell the whole truth for fear of losing the only bit of friendship they had ever had.

 

The train rolled to a stop and as they spilled onto the grounds with the rest of the kids they were disappointed to see nothing but trees and a well-worn path with a line of horseless carriages on it. Most of the other children were making their way towards the carriages so, with a shrug from Ron, they did too.

 

“Firs’ y’rs! All Firs’ y’rs this way. Follow me.” Hagrid’s booming voice stopped them in their tracks. They turned to see Hagrid looming over everyone with a crew of first years congregated around him and more coming.

 

This didn’t sit right with Harry but for no other reason than the fact that he didn’t like Hagrid. It wasn’t because anything Hagrid did. In fact, He had been nothing but kind towards Harry if a bit frustratingly vague and conveniently forgetful of important details. Like how to get onto the platform for instance. What bothered Harry was his size. He was too big, he could easily snap Harry in two, could easily torture him and there was nothing Harry could do about it. His very being threatened Harry and that was something Harry could tolerate, but not something he could forgive or trust.

 

Looking at Ron, white as a sheet at the sight of Hagrid, Harry could tell the feeling was mutual. Smiling slightly Harry hit Ron in the arm and motioned towards the carriages. With a smirk in return they stayed their course.

Trying to look like second years, and failing, they strode purposefully toward the nearest carriage. Suddenly, their path was blocked by a pair of identically lean bodies. Looking up Harry and Ron discovered that the bodies had identical faces, both of which were grinning impishly. The twins had arrived.

 

“Well, what do you suppose we have here Fred?”

 

“Looks like a couple of troublemakers trying to play at being Big Boys!”

 

“Aptly put! And what is the one thing we don’t stand for here at Hogwarts.” George said doing a remarkably accurate impersonation of Percy.

 

“Troublemakers.” Fred said firmly, crossing his arms and staring down his nose at the two first years. All four children held their positions for a long minute as Fred and George waited for the laughter, the joke, maybe even an angry retort. Anything so they may know that their little brother wasn’t just…void.

 

Harry and Ron, though, they just stood there. Waiting for the twins to get out of the way. It was tense and the twins felt it. The first years’ faces were a mask of indifference, but their still untrained magic practically made their air crackle with disdain. Ron especially could barely control his mask as he felt white hot hate course through him.

In the last half of summer the twins had taken to following him wherever he went. At first he thought they were planning some kind of prank, annoying but something he could deal with as he had before. But no pranks came. They didn’t seem to be telling anyone else about it and of course they didn’t think Ron knew. So they were keeping it secret but why? He had started to fear they knew about **Him**. But that couldn’t be, Ron was very careful to shake them before he got to **His** house.

Basically, the last couple of weeks had been a rollercoaster of emotions for Ron when it came to the twins. From annoyed to confused to fearful and wary (even more than usual) to downright baffled. And honestly, Ronald just couldn’t handle having all those emotions. He had spent years trying to numb himself, inside and out, and he was good at it. To the point where he truly felt almost nothing most of the time. But the twins were messing that up and it angered him. Why did they seem so interested in him now? Instead of before when he actually needed someone to take an interest. When he needed anyone to take an interest. Anyone beside **Him**.

Sighing Ron looked at Harry nodded his head toward Hagrid. He knew if they said anything to the twins it would just give them permission to continue pestering him. Which was something he hoped would fade once they got to Hogwarts and the twins were around their friends again. No longer engaging the twins and ignoring their calls. They pushed to the front of the first years were Hagrid noticed them.

“Al’righ there Harry! That e’ryone here! Good. This way now, c’mon.” They followed him to a rocky outcropping by a shore lined with small boats.

“No mor’n four to a boat now c’mon.” Everyone started pairing up and walking towards boats it almost made Harry sad for a moment, thinking he would be chosen last or simply left out like always. Until he saw Ron, already getting in one, looking back at back at him in confusion. Harry smiled a little remembering that he finally had a friend and never had to worry about being alone again.

They climbed into a boat behind a short boy clutching a very  squirmy toad in his hands. They had barely sat down before the last spot in their boat was filled by the same girl as earlier. Hermione Granger.

She had practically flown into the seat as soon as she saw they were in the boat. She sat there staring at them intensly, as if she could analyze them by looks alone and it would tell her everything she needed to know about them. The atmosphere was expectant and just when she opened her mouth the boats started forward and jerked them all onto the floor.

It was a bumpy ride and for the next five minutes it felt as if it was all they could do to get back on their seats and stay there. Ron was mostly amused by this point. An emotion he hardly ever felt but one he savored. Looking at Hermione trying to regain her proper posture and haughty attitude amongst the swells of the lake constantly bumping her back; he figured it was an emotion he was going to become intimately familiar with in the coming school year.

The boy with the toad had finally managed to stuff it in his pocket and rushed to help Hermione. Harry remained camped on the floor of the boat looking forward and ignoring Hermione. He did not bother to try and sit on the seat because he could see ahead just fine from down there and didn’t feel like going through the effort since the jolt had already smarted his bruises.

Ron had gotten back on his seat pretty fast and maintained his balance quite well, practice he supposed. The thought sent a chill down his back but he kept the amused smile on his face, if a bit forced but not noticeably so, as he continued to look at Hermione. She had clearly grown quite frustrated and puffed up at the boy’s offer of help so comically, Ron almost laughed.

She knocked his hand away so the boy put his arm around her waist and lifted her into the seat. Hermione turned red at that and pushed him away practically sputtering her indignation and this time Ron did laugh because she was like a little bird. All proud and huffy. He couldn’t help himself.

She cut a quick glare towards Ron before glaring at the boy who had shrunk away to his own seat. It took a moment but recognition lit her eyes as they probed the boy’s face which had also gone quite red. She looked out over the water, her arms still crossed, and said coolly

“You’re the boy who was being bullied aren’t you.” Even Harry looked over at the boy surprised. He looked down at the pocket with the toad that was still trying to break free and said,

“The one you saved? Yeah, that’s me. Hi” He waved shyly with a hesitant smile that slipped into the water when he saw none of them return it.

“What’s your name?” Hermione asked looking back at him. Her intelligent eyes slicing into him, making him feel like she could read his mind.

“Neville” He squeaked. More than a little disturbed by his previous savior’s countenance. She smiled then and looked back towards the water.

“Well, Neville. No need to thank or help me just because of that little incident. It is already far from **my** mind. After all, I only did it because I was bored, it was nothing to do with **you** ” She sneered the last word and didn’t look back to see his crestfallen expression. She kept staring at the water even when Harry snorted, clearly not buying her blatant lie or the attitude, but he didn’t question her. He just stared back at the horizon looking for that first glimpse of Hogwarts.

Ron watched it all with an air of curiosity as the four of them lapsed into silence. Hermione started to lean over the side of the boat staring interestedly at the water which was curious. But Ron was more curious about Harry who was actively ignoring Hermione despite his earlier interest.

Ron tried to remember what might have turned him off of her and could only think it was her dig about his ‘common’ name. He recalled that Harry had turned pure white at that before looking angrily away and that was the last time they had seen her before now. It worried Ron that someone could fall out of Harry’s favor so quickly and he worried where that left him if he were to make a mistake and mention the wrong thing. Their friendship was tenuous at best and Ron didn’t think he could bear to be left behind again. Not like before.

Ron’s silence for the rest of the trip was a thoughtful one. So consumed by the past he barely registered Hermione’s continued gaze into the water. Her reaching her hand in to... something. Whatever.

He barely heard Harry’s gasp as Hogwarts finally came into view. Lit up beautifully, the moon crossed the clear sky to touch the torches light on it’s many edifices. It’s gothic structure was in stark contrast to the soft stars blanketing the castle in the background of this tableau.

It was amazing, really. But all Ron felt was a flicker of….something. He could not name this emotion though he saw it, clearly magnified tenfold, on the faces of his companions. He had fallen back into that pleasant numbness he was accustomed to. He wondered briefly, as the boats docked, how he had let himself be pulled out of a state that was so comforting.

Harry finally looked back at Ron, all smiles, and he felt that spark. The same one on the train when he had laughed for the first time in forever with this kid who seemed nothing like him but exactly like him all at once. Ron decided then and there that for once he would stop thinking about it and just follow this feeling, wherever it might lead.

* * *

Hermione was excited. There was no denying it now. Her mind had always seemed to operate on several levels, all of which were better than everyone else’s thought processes, and four of those levels had been in constant battle since her decision to attend this school. She went back and forth between excited, nervous, scared, and triumphant without settling anywhere. She had been questioning whether she made the right decision all through summer holiday and especially throughout the train ride. Seeing the immaturity of the students had made her almost certain this was a mistake but then she met Professor McGonagall.

She was a strict imposing woman who led the children through the castle to a waiting room then gave a speech about the houses and their importance. Hermione was certain, from that small glimpse of her, that this was the kind of teacher she had always dreamt of. The kind of teacher she had hoped they had here at Hogwarts. And if all the teachers here are like that then it truly doesn’t matter, she decided, if the students are terrible idiots.

Hermione was determined to be the best student at Hogwarts. She knew that would impress the teachers, as it always had. Then the teachers will be her friends and that would be so much better than when teachers had tried to be her friends in the past because it was always clear to her that she was so much smarter than even her own teachers back then. It was quite frustrating, but Professor Mcgonagall seemed different, like the kind of person who would be on her level of intelligence.

Hermione looked over to where Ron and Harry stood. They were on the outskirts of the room near a corner that Ron seemed to be leaning into. They were chatting amicably, probably about the test the Professor mentioned that would determine our house. There seemed to be a lot of speculation going around the room about it. Everyone looked nervous or scared about it. Well, not her. Hermione had never failed anything and she wasn’t about to start now. Whatever the test was she was sure she would pass.

Harry and Ron didn’t look worried either. _That’s annoying_ , she thought. Then she shook herself because she needed to stop thinking about them. They were just kids, like the rest of these imbeciles. She tried to forget about Ron’s snappy comebacks to her rudeness and Harry’s smile that said he saw the ridiculousness of what she did and how she reacted to the whole situation of her rescue.

Hermione wasn’t perfect. She was very smart but she did stupid things too except… normally no one else was smart enough to realize she had made a mistake when she made one. Or if they did see it they rationalized it as a fluke and didn’t hold it against her. Harry smiled and talked to her as if she were interesting but ultimately just like them. Which infuriated her as much as it made her happy.

She tried to ignore the fact that it didn’t matter whether or not she might want to be friends with them because they certainly didn’t seem to want to be friends with her. She had tried talking to them again on the boat, maybe apologize for her previous rudeness. She didn’t know exactly what she was trying to do but it hardly mattered because hadn’t manage to utter a single word. She just couldn’t.

Because what if she had opened herself up to them, admitted she was wrong and rude and wanted to be their friend and they rejected her like the others. Or became cruel to her the moment she showed any kind of weakness….No! Hermione’s self preservation instinct was too strong and she refused to open herself up only to be hurt. So it was time to do what she did best and focus on herself.

Screams interrupted her thought and she quickly gripped the wand and the knife she keeps on her at all times. She looked to where the commotion seemed to be and quickly realized what it was.

Stupid monkeys, it’s just a couple of ghosts. The worst they can do to you is make you cold. Hermione relaxed and had to force herself not to look back at Harry and Ron. But Hermione had always had good senses and she felt the tension slowly leaving them as well. No matter, anyone would have been startled by screams. It made her smile knowing they had no idea what she had been through or what she could do. The should be begging to be her friend

As the professor led them into the great hall, which was as magnificent as the outside had been, Hermione’s excitement grew. She was comforted as they lined up to wait for their names to be called, by the one constant truth of her life. That no matter what, Hermione would always be the best at everything she did.

* * *

He was going over the lyrics in his head. One after the other, thinking of maybe adding a word here or there, but ultimately deciding on the same set up he had already decided to do two weeks before. Hours pass like this as he is prepared and brought to wait before the assembled masses. The air alive with magic and an intoxicating expectation. It was like this every year.

The indecision and excitement wafting from the crowds was not only addicting but gratifying. It was his one moment to shine before the whole school, before the whole future of wizarding society, and it was enough to keep him satisfied with his life, such as it is, for another year. So no way was he going to screw it up. _Never let it be said that the Sorting Hat is ever anything less than prepared._

When the new students started streaming in he continued to ‘play dead’ but inside he was rejoicing for this was what he lived for. It was his only purpose in life and sometimes that depressed him but on the whole he loved the performance. He loved the attention he only really got at this time of year but more than that, he loved the dive.

Being the only one of his kind no one on Earth really knew what it was like. The rush of someone else’s memories breaking over him like waves and consuming him. A torrent of images, sounds, feelings, none of it making sense until that moment. One second after touchdown. Then it all makes sense. He becomes that child. Knows him or her inside and out. Every memory is his own but not his own and that is when he can take a step back to evaluate. He can see the reasons behind their actions in a way the child themselves never could while living it for themselves. It was exhilarating. The knowledge,  the power, the innocence. He had decided long ago that it was better than any drug.

The Sorting Hat himself had never been a child and as such he was certain that being able to experience that total innocence for few minutes per child more than made up for never having one himself. Every hug and kiss, every first they had ever experienced. Every heart break and scraped knee. Every play time and friendship. It was beautiful and not something he would ever get tired of. Nor would he ever tire of the moments before when it was his time to shine. It was him and no one else in front of everyone right now.

They were all there, he must have missed his cue. They were waiting with baited breath for his entrance. Though they couldn’t see it He smirked before opening His mouth and singing his anthem to the raptured audience and yes, this moment was what it was all about. It was perfect. Until the next moment anyway.

The Sorting Hat almost sighed after the applause had tapered out but decided that it would probably ruin his image and held back. Besides his first student was making her way towards him and he was more than ready for the dive. He was eager for it. Susan Bones sat down on the stool and the millisecond he was placed on her head he was filled with everything that made her Susan and he loved it all.

He loved her. She was sweet and kind if a bit a goofy.. always making lame jokes but making them anyway just to see her family and friends smile...so many friends… a passion for animals… great compassion was clear from that time when she was eight and she lured a stray dog with a broken leg home so she could get her mom to heal it despite the fact it kept biting and scratching when she got too close….she was so full of love… so much love from family and friends.... so many friends...she was so… “HUFFLEPUFF!”

Susan jumped up from the stool, greatly recovered from her nervousness from a minute before, and she rushed to her table eager start making friends. The Hat meanwhile was coming down from that particular high and feeling good about this sorting. He liked the Bones family. He had sorted Susan’s parents and her Aunt Amelia (in fact He was still waiting for Amelia to settle down so He could have the pleasure of meeting her children), and He sorted her grandparents and their parents and so on and so forth.

The Sorting Hat has been around since the beginning of Hogwarts and He has been known as many things by many different people. An intruder, a cursed object, a brilliant combination of magic from the greatest wizards and witches since Merlin. He has been called all-knowing, a vault of secrets, wise.

The Hat honestly could care less for any of that. He just liked the dive. He loved the children, all of them. Whole generations of wizards and witches has passed beneath His brim. And he was fond of all of them. He had guided entire families towards the paths that they needed or wanted and as a result entire lives were shaped and founded and it was all because of Him.

It made Him powerful in a way but the dive always humbled Him because there is nothing like diving into someone else’s mind and learning all their secrets to make you appreciate everyone’s worth no matter their faults.

That was why sometimes He just had to interfere. He had to talk to the student and make sure they had the tools to make the most of Hogwarts and their lives. Every now and then as the Sorting Hat continued to make his way through the first years, they were just starting the G’s now, He would wait to call out his decision and instead talk to the new student. He’d give them some advice or simply tell them to cut the attitude in certain areas so they could become the better people He knew they were all capable of being.

It was frustrating sometimes as years would pass and he would discover through new student’s memories that some of the previous kids to pass beneath his brim had never heeded his warning or disregarded his advice. It was always sad to see that.

“Granger, Hermione” A small girl with hair so bushy it nearly made her face disappear was striding confidently towards Him. She was obviously muggle born, the first of the year, and she looked strange as she walked up to him. Eager, definitely, but something else he couldn’t quite place. She took The Hat from Professor Mcgonagall before sitting on the stool and jamming Him on her head.

As always the dive was sudden and overwhelming. Images and feelings blended together and The Hat was scared and sad and deeply lonely. He felt a strong sense of  pride and superiority running throughout all these memories coupled often with an anger so burning The Hat actually winced at the feeling.

The images were slowing into a steady stream, like a movie reel running in front of him. He saw beatings and laughter focused on a young bushy haired girl. _That’s Me_ , The Hat thought as he became accustomed to her, melding with her consciousness.

The belittling of her peers was degrading and wholly undeserved for she was so much better than all of them… _there was that superiority again_ … but they wouldn’t leave her alone and it always hurt so much...her parents didn’t pay attention to her complaints which hurt worse..they told her to be stronger… she was strong… so strong she could snuff out a stray cat’s life like it was nothing… she could tie up dogs stolen from the neighbors and starve them until they attacked the first thing they saw, each other… she could make them all pay someday like when she set that one boy’s coat on fire… she hated them all.. the kids at school...her parents... the teachers who expected everything but gave nothing… Above every other feeling there was a hate so strong and untampered it coursed through everything even the peaceful memories. _Such few happy memories all of them corroded by this black hate._ The Hat couldn’t take it any more.

He pulled back and took a moment to collect himself. He had not encountered such a horrifying mind in almost seventy years. It hurt Him to think of the last student whose mind burned with as much hate and anger as this girl’s mind but He was determined not to make the same mistake as He had last time.

It had been almost a minute since He had been placed on Hermione’s head. She was clearly most suited for either Ravenclaw or Slytherin he considered just sorting her to Ravenclaw without a comment. But her life was fresh in his mind, her pain so acute, and he couldn’t just let her go on suffering. She needed a community but more than that she needed a friend. Thinking it over he spoke to her,

_You are angry, child._ She scoffs, if she is surprised to hear him speak in her mind it doesn’t show in her thoughts or movements. She replies,

_You don’t have to be a mind reader to know that._

_No but it is still disturbing how much there is in you. And I am not easily disturbed. Tell me, which house do believe you would do the best in._ She feels like this is a trick question and so she says bitterly,

_Isn’t that your job. To judge me and make a decision regarding my future._  A feeling of powerlessness sweeps over them followed by that anger and He knows now just where she belongs but still...

_True but I am fair, I like to hear your input. You are a smart girl, you’ve researched each of the houses in great detail. Where do you belong?_

_Well, Ravenclaw is the obvious choice. As you said I am smart._ She was testing him.

_True, but you are not an obvious girl are you Hermione? You desire far more than the just pursuit of knowledge. You desire Power. Therefore; you know where it is you must go in order to achieve the goals you have. But a word before a place you._

_What?_

__

_Be careful. You’re a smart girl and I have faith that you could get out of a tight corner with no trouble. But this fury is wild and harsh. If you’re not careful it will consume you. After all Genius is just a hair's breadth away from Insanity._

Hermione felt a cold chill at these words and was sharply reminded of the train and before. The fire erupting that boy she hated. The sleepless nights she spent afterward ripping her hair out and cutting herself all in the name of experimentation.

_How do I do that? How do I get these bothersome feelings under control?_

__

_Go to the forest. There you will find many who share your struggle, learn from them. And don’t fret about your peers. Those deserving of your companionship will find their way to you and when they do, remember the forest._

_What? What does that even mean? Be straight with me you stupid Hat! She was getting angry again._ The Hat just chuckled.

_You will know when the time comes. Until then good luck in…._ “SLYTHERIN!”

The silence was awkward. When Hermione got up angrily she slammed the hat down on the stool. She was angry at the Hat for being cryptic but even more for being right about her. She tried to control her anger but then she noticed that nobody was clapping like they had for the other children. She knew why, she had read three books on the genealogy of pureblooded wizarding families and the history of Slytherin. They let in Halfbloods sometimes but never had a muggle born been placed in Slytherin.

She glared at the shocked Hall, her befuddled and nasty looking Housemates, and the uselessly befuddled teachers before stomping one foot and shouting,

“CLAP!” The hall stuntedly obeyed and after Hermione was satisfied she strode elegantly towards her table, her face a mask, but inside she was seething.

The Hat simply sat there and watched with some amusement but a feeling of dread had started to pool within him. He sorted the next few children  with no difficulty but He was shaken by what he had felt in Hermione Granger. He was so disoriented in fact that he hardly noticed when he had gotten to the P’s.

It was only when he heard that famous name, “Potter, Harry” , and the whispering that broke out across the Hall that he remembered what Dumbledore had told him earlier this evening.

**_He had the gravest face The Hat had ever seen on him before as Professor Dumbledore strengthened The Hat’s magic by adding his own, as every Headmaster must do every year. This child had grown so much from when the Hat first met him but still he had retained most of his child-like wonder despite the trials that came with maturing. It was something that set this man apart from his predecessors, something that The Hat respected._ **

****

**_“He’ll be here soon.” Dumbledore said suddenly._ **

****

**_“Who?”_ **

****

**_“Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. His story is just starting but..” His sigh was so heavy The Hat could feel the sadness and resignation emanating from the man. “I am afraid I already know how it must end.” The Hat said nothing._ **

****

**_“I do not know if I will have the strength to do what I must with the boy. He must be strong for the trials ahead yet how could I teach him that. I did not even have the strength to check in on him while he was growing up. Too guilty.” He laughed bitterly as he set The Hat down and went to fetch the stool._ **

****

**_“Please know, dear Hat. That Harry Potter’s destiny is far greater than anyone knows. And his battles with Voldemort are not nearly over. I do not know what exactly his future holds but he must be prepared for the worst. Please help him as you have so many others, as you did me. I will do what I can as well. I just hope it is enough.”_ **

****

**_“You hold something back from me Albus. You know his confrontation with Tom as a baby was not to be his last, but how?” Dumbledore said nothing and The Hat didn’t press. Instead he said,_ **

****

**_“You are guilty of many things Albus. But let it never be said that you do not care. Of course I will help the boy, as I do all who need it. But if it is guilt you feel then you need only extend an olive branch to the boy. Something he may want, something to do with his parents maybe. Children are naturally forgiving creatures, give him something he wants and he will let you in.”..._ **

The boy looked so much like his father but The Hat was starkly reminded of Lily Evans countenance as he watched the boy walk towards him calmly. Stopping only to smile politely at Professor Mcgonagall before sitting on the stool. The Hat was expecting to find other feelings when he was lowered onto Harry’s head. He had suspected that the calm was just for show and He would find nervousness and sadness and fear underneath. He didn’t.

As soon as He dove into Harry Potter’s mind He was overcome with nausea. Not because Harry was feeling sick but because The Hat could not believe the fractured state of this boy’s mind and he knew in that moment that the wizarding world was in a lot of trouble. For the first time in His life The Hat resisted the dive, too scared of sinking into the oily blackness of Harry’s mind to care about much. But just like a leopard can’t change his spots, The Sorting Hat can’t help but dive.

The images were sudden and bright. Shiny and distorted. He saw a fat walrus-like man and pain….So much pain… a thin woman with a horse’s mouth (that can’t possibly be accurate the sorting hat thought to himself) screaming at me, face red, spit flying… spit and pee raining down from nowhere and everywhere my position under the table makes it so easy and I’m so thirsty I can’t help but lap it up like the dog they want me to be…

The cupboard is so dank and smelly and it’s all my fault always my… darkness everywhere and I’m so scared so helpless so… lonely everyone avoids me and I don’t know why the only ones who talk to me are the ones who hurt me and I still don’t know why…

I hate myself.. I did this… THEY DID THIS… I’m not the one who should be hurting they should, all they do is hurt and lie and take and I have nothing left to give… so I need to take… and I do, I take from the neighbors  with their phony smiles and condescension and their silence to my treatment.. I take their food and their money and I crush all their perfect possessions that mean so much and destroy their perfect lawns… I take the taunts at school and the teacher’s ignoring of it and I set fire to their precious board of achievement... I sneak up behind Mrs. Price who always smiled when Dudley would put glue in my hair and I stab her stupid feet so she won’t ever walk away from me again… I poison the cafeteria food so that everyone will throw up like I had to so many times and they all laughed… my aunt and uncle laughed but... this is good and I feel good for the first time ever.. calm and peaceful no matter what the people around me say I feel none of it… nothing…

The Hat couldn’t breathe. He didn’t need to breathe, but he still felt the panic and fear and the helplessness of not being able to breathe and he can no longer tell if these feelings are coming from Harry or if they are his own reaction to the vileness of the boy’s mind. The Pain and Hate and Revenge roiling through His being like a disease and drowning Him. There was nothing to be done he had to sort through this and do his job.

The Hat scrunched himself down as he focused his power on recent events. He stayed away from Harry’s heart for he just couldn’t bear to touch that again and floated on the surface instead. He saw the conversation with Ron on the Train and was surprised by the Weasley’s vehement support for Slytherin and Harry’s acceptance of it. That’s where he wants to go but there was something else. The Hat sensed another feeling, probably the most human one He had found so far and He knew that was where he had to start with this boy.

_You are lost Harry Potter._ Annoyed the boy replied,

_No I’m not. What’s with you? I know exactly where I am._

_But do you know where you are going? Are going anywhere or are you just running away from somewhere?_

__

_You don’t know what you’re talking about._

__

_I’m afraid I do and I am so sorry._

_Shut Up!_ Harry’s fingers tightened on the stool and he just barely stopped himself from snarling. The Hat just sighed.

_It is not your fault Harry. How could you possibly know where you are going if you do not even know where you came from. You want to don’t you. To know about the only people who ever wanted you, the only ones who loved you._ Harry had calmed down and was listening intently.

_I assure you, you will find everything you need to know about the Potter line here at Hogwarts and when you do you will see why it had to be this way. Everything you’ve been through.. well it sucks. But it doesn’t have to bring you down. You can be better than them, here you can learn not only how to use your magic but also how you should use it._

_And my future. You’re right I am running, but I have nothing to run to. What will become of me?_ The Hat almost sighed with relief. Here was the sad, lost little boy hiding beneath all that anguish. He had been scared there wasn’t one but there is,and this, this he can handle. This question gives Him hope.

_I am not a fortune teller Mr. Potter. I do not know where you will end up. And maybe this is the Hufflepuff in me talking, but whatever path you choose I know that the road will be easier if you travel it with friends._ The boy sighs,

__

_But I don’t have any._

__

_Oh really. Did I imagine that spark of kinship you felt on the train towards the young Mr. Weasley? And what about Ms. Granger? There was something there too until you pushed her away._

__

_Yeah, cuz’ she’s obnoxious._

_True, but you and her are not so different. And if anyone can help you find somewhere to go, it’s her. Stay close to her Harry, and Ron. If you do that and research your family  I have every faith that you will find what you’ve always wanted. Somewhere to belong. Goodbye and good luck in…._ “SLYTHERIN!”

For the second time that night the Great Hall was dead silent, the tension thick. Only, unlike Hermione, Harry did not seem to mind. He simply walked over to the Slytherin table and, after a slight hesitation, sat down next to Hermione.

Still no one did anything. A few people ignorant of the implications in this situation had tried to clap but it petered out when others stopped them. Professor Mcgonagall was taken aback as well but after a few moments she shook herself back to her senses she cleared her throat to call the attention back to her and said awkwardly,

“Yes, well, congratulations Mr. Potter. Now, on with the sorting.” She waited another moment until all eyes were on her and she proceeded to call out the next name. The night was wearing on as the Hat sorted through the rest of the students almost hesitantly. The dive is usually such a pleasant experience but Harry and Hermione’s minds had made the Hat nervous about the other students.

As it was, based on Harry’s recollection of the young red haired boy walking towards him now, He already knew the young Weasley was going to be as challenging as the other two. He hoped though, having known the Weasley family for as a long as He had existed, that He was wrong about him. The Weasley’s were well known as a large and loving family who always put family first. Surely this boy could not have had the same experiences as the other two.

As His brim fell around the ears of the tall boy He knew immediately He had been wrong to hope.This dove was similar to the others because the first thing The Hat felt was a crushing loneliness so strong it confused Him. This was a Weasley, if there was one thing Ron shouldn’t be it was lonely and that’s when it all came at Him.

A whooshing sound of air as his brothers play Quidditch in the yard and Ron sits to the side watching… He’d asked to play but they pushed him and said it was a big boy game, said to go play with Ginny… but Mum and Ginny are having their special girl time like always so he wanders off alone again… He is having tea at Mr. Addison’s cottage and it is nice Mr. Addison is so nice… he wants Ron to call him Brian when they’re not at school it’s weird but Brian is so… he wants to do that thing again and Ron hates it but he loves Brian because Brian plays games with him and calls Ron beautiful and makes Ron feel good about himself and nobody else ever pays so much attention to him but… it hurts, at first it split him apart and he hurts all over forever after but even when he got used to it the hurt didn’t go away… it’s like a knife constantly slicing through his heart everyday and no one notices not even Brian… empty eyes seem to pass him by as wanders through a life that feels more pointless every day, he’s gotten so used to the pain and the dirt that never washes off that’s he’s grown numb… More and more Brian seems to want **that** from him and Ron knows now, after a year of this, that Brian doesn’t really care that he doesn’t want it...doesn’t care when Ron cries...just like Ron’s parents who don’t even ask what his nightmares are about…

If they even notice his sleeplessness at all no it’s all Ginny this and Ginny that and Fred don’t pull your sister’s hair and not a word when they pull even worse pranks ON HIM!...Oh Charlie be careful you’re so reckless, Oh Bill let me cut your hair you’re so handsome don’t hide it, and you two would be so brilliant if you could just learn to behave yourselves laugh laugh laugh meanwhile Ron is limping up to his room and he JUST CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE…. Hatred and Rejection and Madness rises within him and at night it chokes him so he doesn’t sleep and he doesn’t eat and he cuts his arms just to feel a different kind of pain, a more manageable one, and Brian doesn’t care how thin he gets or how weak he gets or about the scars he just KEEPS COMING AT HIM… Ron doesn’t feel beautiful but Brian says he is and Brian’s friends seem to agree and all he feels is...used. Then Nothing…

He’s like a boy made of paper and the wind blows him this way and that way but nothing really touches him, not the hands or the hurt or the rejection of his family or the bullying of his peers and soons he is cutting himself just to feel something at all... and he wonders sometimes if it would feel even better to cut perfect pretty little Ginny because he never gets what he wants no matter how good he is or how much he plays their games and keep quiet… it’s our secret… you’re beautiful but he feels so ugly and she gets everything even though she’s never had to sacrifice anything...he pretends to be okay but everything is so twisted and upside down and it’s like he’s in a never-ending sickening scary carnival and he’s smiling and laughing but inside he’s dying and he couldn’t tell anyone even if he wanted too because there is no way out and no where to go and nothing ahead of him but more pain and sorrow and then hopefully darkness….

The Hat pulled back and just barely managed to stop himself from crying out at the sheer misery contained within this boy’s cheery facade. It was overwhelming and deeply depressing. This boy just could not seen any future for himself and he lies about it. So much. He lied to Harry on the train he lies to himself. He may want greatness and he will try for it but he honestly feels like he couldn’t even achieve the most minor thing. And that lack of true confidence could be very dangerous in the world Ron wants to enter. The Hat visibly shuddered and felt very cold. He wants so badly to help Ron but he doesn’t know how.

He could tell by the whispers in Hall that everyone had noticed his shudder and he knew he was taking much longer than he had with the others. Opening His eyes He spots three redheads whispering worriedly amongst themselves and looking up at the boy with concerned expressions. If only he could get Ron to see that or to see himself as more than how those other terrible people have made him see himself. Then it hit Him. **_See_**.

The Sorting Hat has been sorting Weasley’s ever since He was first created and He’s noticed that occasionally the family has been known to produce seers of varying levels of ability. The seer ability is rare and pops up every few generations for certain families and the Weasley’s are one of those families. In fact the last Weasley to have inherited the ability was good old Bilius who died just a few years ago, perfect.

_Hello Ronald_ There was confusion now instead of the nervousness from before.

_Hey. Soooo, what’s taking so long? Don’t you know by now where I should be._

__

_Where you should be is at home cuddled up in bed being hugged by your mother._

__

_Excuse me?_ He was so bewildered and offended it was almost funny. But not quite.

_You heard me. I have seen your mind Ronald Weasley. And I am so sorry about what you have suffered._ He didn’t say anything but the Hat could sense his anger at being pitied, as well as the slight relief.

__

_I am also worried. You may be able to lie to the world and yourself but you can’t lie to me. You say you want to be in Slytherin in order to gain the resources to finally show up your siblings but you’re also doing it to punish them. You don’t have any faith that you will actually succeed and you can’t see any outcome to your life that doesn’t end in misery._

__

_Stop it, just stop!_

_It’s okay Ron. Because I know you really can achieve what you say you want. You can be great and have an actual future, I know it. You just need a little help._ Ron relaxed a little feeling as though they have finally broached the topic at hand.

_I know I’m not good enough to do it on my own. That’s why you need to place me in Slytherin._ The Hat sighed.

_On the contrary Ron. You are more than able to do it on your own. Although I do suggest you stick around Harry and Hermione. For no other reason than I think their friendship might be good for you._

_So what are you saying? What is the point of this conversation? Just sort me already?_

_The point is… if you are ever going to do anything you need to believe you can. You need a….broader perspective. Your great uncle Bilius was a seer right?_

__

_Yeah, not a very good one. He had like a couple of visions his entire life. We’ve produced far better ones in the past._

_But it is still in your blood, no? The seer ability that has been passed down for generations. Randomly showing up every now and then. What if you could access it. Bilius is dead now so the gift lies dormant just waiting to activate in a Weasley. Well, what if you could bring it forth in yourself?_

_How?_ He is eager now. All Ron can think about is how an ability like that would finally set him apart from his family, make them notice him, make them pay for shutting him out to begin with. This kind of power could fix everything. The Hat knew just what Ron was thinking and he had a moment of doubt. He was sure this would help the boy but he didn’t want to make the same mistake he did seventy years ago. He thought it would help then too and it only made him more crazed. The Hat shook it off. This was a totally different situation.

_Hogwarts has housed many secrets over the years and one of the cool ones is on the seventh floor. There is a blank stretch of wall opposite a tapestry of hippos doing ballet, don’t ask me why, and all you need to do is walk back and forth in front of it three times thinking about your seer potential and how you need to access it. A door will appear, enter it._

_That’s it?_

__

_What did you expect? For me to activate it right here and now? I do not know how it is done, I just know it’s possible. The rest is up to you._

_Thanks, I guess._ The Hat snorts at that.

_Your welcome. And remember what I said._

__

_I’m not likely to forget it._

__

_Not about your potential. About your friends, Harry and Hermione._

_Oh… Wait Hermione isn’t my friend and Harry is… well I don’t know, he could be._

__

_No, **they** will be._

__

_Why?_

__

_Because when you have lived as long as I have you realize that there is nothing that is worth doing unless you do it with some good friends by your side._ There was a pause.

_Do you always interfere so much?_ The Hat chuckled sagely.

_No, only in the special cases. You’ll see what I mean in…_. “SLYTHERIN!”

 


End file.
